Member-only story
Dark Days
There are days darker than they have any right to be. Days with the gravity of the milky way pulling at my shoulders, specifically. Days where the fog is so dense I can’t see past my own thoughts. Dark days. Days that don’t even sound like misery. The Dark days whisper a banal eternity. An immortal but innocent Sisyphus. It is difficult, yes but it is not the worst.
The Dark days are some of my oldest friends. I whisper my questions to the boulder who always has an answer. I say why me, it says why not or that I am the sacrifice for someone else to live well or that I’m conceited for thinking there’s any other way for it to be.
I am not Sisyphus, though. I recognize the boulder as my thoughts. I know these lies. The Boulder reminds me to smile. Every time I believe this weight, I feel it.
I leave the hill and the boulder avalanches down to gravel. It was never that big. I was short sighted. This milky way weight is a joke against the Andromeda of my strength. I just need to remember. Remember that the Time and Earth itself schemed to make me. Change and Life. The dark days don’t change. They could never be my life.
